Chapter 14
The Objective
“Time to get up.” The Sergeant’s voice called softly to the twins in their hammocks. Without the older boys around, he didn’t feel like putting on the tough drill sergeant act.
“It’s early,” observed a bright-eyed Moe as he popped up and into his socks.
“It’s actually just dawn,” the Sergeant said. “After a quick breakfast, we’re going to go meet your brother and Ben, who should be arriving at the objective in about an hour and a half.”
“How are we going to beat them there?” asked Katie.
The Sergeant grinned mischievously. “Easily,” he said. “You see, the objective is about a hundred yards away, over that hill.”
Katie’s mouth dropped open. “You led them in circles?”
“What did you expect?” the Sergeant shrugged. “I had to keep them on this property or that of friendly neighbors. You couldn’t get a good hike out of that area if you walked one end to the other. Besides, this way we don’t have to do a bunch of walking ourselves!”
The sun was just up as they topped the hill and descended downward once more. There, in the base of the hill, was the objective – a yawning hole. “A cave!” Moe clapped his hands. “Are there bats?”
Katie drew back at that, but relaxed once her stepfather assured them there were no bats. She’d had a great time swimming in the deep water yesterday, but this “courageous” thing could be taken too far.
“You want to go in and look?” the Sergeant asked. They followed him eagerly as he switched on a bright LED flashlight. “Now, Moe,” he said as they explored, “I hope I can count on you to be a really good sport today. The objective involves a sort of prize for your brother and Ben, but keep in mind that they’ve worked hard to earn it. Can you just be happy for them?”
“I guess so,” Moe nodded, “as long as the prize isn’t a flying model rocket. I know that ammunition box is too short for a .22 rifle. It would take something like that to make me jealous, I guess.”
“Well, none of you is getting a rifle, regardless,” the Sergeant said. “As for the rocket, maybe we’ll see about that sometime.”
From out in the trees, they heard approaching footsteps. “Let’s step aside and let them find it before we get together,” the Sergeant suggested, and they hid behind a large rock formation near the mouth of the cave. It seemed to take a long time for the circling footsteps to zero in on their target, but finally shadows appeared at the door, then the boys themselves, checking their watches as they rushed to claim the prize with whoops of unbridled glee.
After rejoicing – and looking around to see if the Sergeant had arrived – they decided to go ahead and open the box. Ben lifted the lid with high anticipation. There, carefully wrapped in tissue paper, were two Army-issue black berets.
“Congratulations, troops.”
Hearing the Sergeant’s voice, the two almost stood to attention.
“I’ve been tracking you on GPS,” he informed them. “Frankly, when you took the bait so quick on that first hedgeapple tree, I thought we’d end up having to call search and rescue to pull you out of a bog somewhere. But you recovered – you made it – and I’m really proud of you.”
“Are these real Army hats?” Chris asked.
“Yes, they are,” the Sergeant told him. “Those are the berets that, up until ten years ago, only Army Rangers could wear. Now what you’ve just gone through is not really like the Army Rangers training and selection, but for a couple of city boys, it ain’t exactly a picnic either. I want these berets to be a reminder for you that you can do more than you think you can. I also want them to be a reminder that in order to reach your destination, you always need to follow directions exactly.”
“I’m afraid I almost didn’t,” Chris confessed bravely. “I wanted to eat the mushrooms, but Ben stopped me.”
“The mushrooms,” the Sergeant repeated. “Oh yes, that reminds me. I’ll need to see the specimens you gathered before we formally present the award.”
Ben put down the box and carefully counted out the plants and rocks on the Sergeant’s list. Mr. Sparrow was smiling until they came to the Morel mushroom, which he examined and smelled closely. “It’s a good thing you talked him out of eating this,” he told Ben. “That’s a Wrinkled Thimble, not a Half Free Morel. It takes an experienced eye to tell the difference, but if you’d eaten several of these, you probably wouldn’t have been getting out of your hammock this morning. Unless you fell out.”
“Oh.” Chris and Ben hung their heads. “So we failed?”
“We’re going to call this mission a go,” the Sergeant assured him. “The mushroom mistake anyone could make, and Chris owned up about his near-violation of orders. And, you’re both relatively clean, so I guess you figured out how to get through the mudbank. So, hand me those berets and stand to attention.”
Chris Rivera and Ben Naylor couldn’t have been more awed and honored if they had been receiving a medal. Sore muscles and sunburn were nothing compared to the thrill of a challenging mission accomplished. They both knew that, whatever they might try to do in their lives, they wanted to end it this way – looking back, pass or fail, and knowing that they did their best to follow the directions.
The remaining two days of the camping trip were spent in total relaxation, with the Sergeant taking care of everything and guiding them from one fun activity to another. By Day Four, Ben and Chris had agreed that they wanted to stay forever, and they should send back to the city for Mom. And Jessie, Chris added reluctantly, should she want to join them.
The last night out, Mr. Sparrow was reading in his hammock at twilight when he overheard the twins talking behind a nearby tree.
“I’ve asked Jesus into my heart,” Katie told Moe in a matter-of-fact tone, “so you need to do it too. Otherwise, you won’t go to heaven, and I’d miss you a lot.”
Together they prayed a prayer that only nine-year-olds could have thought up. The Sergeant followed with a quiet “amen.” To have all three of the kids make such spiritual progress on this trip was more than he could ever have hoped. Lying there in his hammock under the Milky Way, Sergeant Sparrow prayed a little prayer of his own, a prayer of thanks to the Maker of everything beautiful and wonderful.
The next day, they drove back to the city.
The Sparrow Found A House (Sparrow Stories #1) Page 14
